In Memory of the Dearly Teened
by Overlord-Flinx
Summary: The Kids Next Door may not like teens, but they never forget to honor the "passed". A Memorial Day story.


**A tad late for the Holiday in question, but no matter. This story if for Memorial Day; a day to celebrate those that served our country and will serve us in the future. And it is in memory of that day that I write this with somewhat of a joking yet serious twist to it. Enjoy yourself and take time to reflect if you see it necessary.**

**P.S. 497 is made up... he just keeps the story moving...**

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><p>As a Kids Next Door Operative, a few things are expected despite rank and honors. Such as aiding kids all around the world; morning, noon, night, and if need be, snack time. It also meant freely offering your time and personal enjoyment to stop adult tyranny on a momentary basis. But most of all, it was remembering the name of the organization itself. The Kids Next Door was, as the name implied, only made up of children under the age of thirteen; the sur-age of budding adult hood. All operatives had to face the moment they grew to the age of thirteen as their last moment as an operative; for after the thirteenth anniversary of any operative's day of birth, they would have to be decommissioned with no acceptations. With the decommissioning came the removing them from the organization, stripping them of their Numbuh, and perhaps most painful of all, stripping the KND and everyone they encountered within the organization since joining from their memories completely. It is indeed a solemn and painful routine for all operatives to have in mind; knowing full well that someday, a day they knew exactly the date and time of, would come onto them. But what was most painful for all was when a prime member of the KND, a member everyone knew and perhaps held in a high regard had to be decommissioned. In cases such as those few individuals, they would have a ceremony held on the Moon Base for them, letting them speak their peace openly to any and all operatives that came to see their final moments.<p>

But it is because of this, that the Supreme Leader of the Kids Next Door had ordered the construction of a great memorial be built for all past, present, and future decommissioned operatives. Daily, Sectors would venture to the memorial to etch in the name and Numbuh of their decommissioned partner, or partners as they day would call for. Along with their name and Numbuh, they would etch the age they were decommissioned; which seemed like a moot point to the Supreme Leader considering they would only be decommissioned on their thirteenth birthday, but allowed it anyway, taking in consideration of special cases of premature decommissions. The memorial was placed on a lone island west of the Canadian coast. The memorial itself was outfitted with many stairs that led to tall and wide ebony, sleek stone walls with etches of words and numbers littered across them in no particular shape or organization. The island was constantly added onto, making room for more and more names to be etched presently into it for future operatives to one day see…

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><p>A chilling northern wind blew lazily across the stones of the island, along with sending chills down a lone blond haired girl standing in front of one of the memorial walls. The usual tiger print-like sweater she usually war was replaced by an orange jacket with a grey fur trim on all the linings of her sleeves and neck line. Her arms were tucked shakily into the opposite side pockets of her jacket as she sniffled from the chill and looked over the wall. Her steel colored eyes skimmed across, up and down, and at one point horizontally as she looked for a certain spot on the center wall. Whilst consumed in here search, she failed to take note of the boy coming up behind her; bundled snuggly in a thick green jacket and scarf wrapped over his mouth and top of his head. "Supreme Leader, ma'am," he called to her softly, bringing her out of her focus and turning her attention to the back of her.<p>

She smiled with a shuttering lip from the sheer chill of the air around her, shrugging with a nonchalant snicker. "First time I've been here… now I see why everyone's sneezing when they get back," she joked, bringing the other boy to snicker along, "at least the Arctic Base has some interior heating."

"I do not mind, ma'am. I spend day and night here, yet I 'aven't caught un' single cold," the boy pointed out as he waved his thick gloved hand at his Supreme Leader.

She nodded in understanding, but removed a hand from her pocket and placed it on the boy's shoulder as he stood nearly a foot lower then her. "Listen Numbuh 497, if you want to go back to Sector R—"

"No sir, I will have to decline," he guided her hand from off her shoulder and back to her side with a kind tone.

"I understand…" turning back to the wall behind her, she sighed with a light chuckle, "be easier if there was some order to these names…"

As a light breeze brushed by her, whisking a strand of her dusty blond hair along with it, she heard a small fluttering noise shutter up behind her. Rachel glanced behind her only to see the Numbuh 497 flipping through the pages of a massive book she could only guess he pulled out from his jacket. With a cock of her brow in his direction, Numbuh 497 quickly looked up at her and motioned for her to take his book. "I've been on the island for a long time; I've personally kept notes and positioning on each and every name… Who are you looking for?" with his question, Rachel gave a light reddening blush to her chilled cheeks.

"W-Well… It's a boy," she stammered out, scratching a free hand to the back of her neck nervously.

"A boy? Well," a snicker passed through the shorter boy's lips, along with puffs of his warm breath mixing with the cold air about him, "a _boy_friend, ma'am?"

A quick, feverish shake of her head was her response to the question as she regained her composure. "No, not at all. Just someone I looked up to in my days of being a medical responder," she flatly explained, receiving a nod of understanding from Numbuh 397.

"Ah, I understand. What was his Numbuh?" Numbuh 497 asked as he flipped to the glossary of his book, skimming across the chilled, crisp pages.

"Numbuh 100; the Supreme Leader before Numbuh 274…" she replied, gaining a venomous, if not resentful tone when coming to the number 274.

Numbuh 497 ran a finger against the back of the book's pages, locating the particular Numbuh. After no time at all, he snapped his fingers with a dull click through his thick gloves and closed his book. "Numbuh 100's is on wall seven in the middle right side," he explained with a proud tune to his voice.

Rachel glanced around the island until she saw a tall wall on the far right side with a massive seven etched into the top of it. "Ah, there it is… Thanks, Numbuh 497," she thanked while giving the young operative a quick pat on his scarf clad head before she ventured to the far side of the memorial grounds.

Once she reached the black wall, she carefully followed the directions she was given and looked to that particular spot. And just like that, her eyes clicked onto an etching on the far right side of the wall, the words and numbers carved in clean and neatly within the wall's face. A warm smile crossed her face as she patted her bare hand against the etching before letting out a deep sigh; summoning with it a small cloud of colliding warm air to the chill. "Sir," she sharply hardened her posture and gave a stiff salute to the name and Numbuh before her; "I hope I'm continuing your legacy as a Supreme Leader properly. You always lead with a stern and commanding air about you, one that no one feared, but all respected," sniffling in, she softened her saluting hand and returned it to her jacket pocket, "it's as you told everyone at your decommissioning, 'leadership means nothing if you're leading with your horse still at the running line. You can't expect soldiers or even civilians to follow you if you only give a speech, or deliver orders. No, a fair leader gets their hands dirty along with each and every person they lead; their burdens are yours, and your burdens are yours alone.'

"And boy, do I got burdens… But you know sir? I'm not letting it get to me anymore. My two best friends, the boy you said 'had no command to him' and the girl you said 'couldn't scare a rainbow monkey', they're always there to push my burdens off and make my life a whole lot easier," with a chuckle she turned her back on the wall and looked off into the sky. "I've also found a nice boy… A bit weird at times and all around stuffy, but he's a nice kid under it all, sir," one last time, she turned on her heels and saluted at the wall proudly, "I'll be sure to have my successor of leadership etch my name right under yours in three years, sir. You just take care of yourself until then…" dropping her hand she turned to walk away, only to stop in her tracks and glance back behind her. "By the way, 100. I saw you at the grocery store last week… you really do love Wheat Thins."

Without anymore to say to her 'passed' comrade, she tucked her hands into the slits of her pockets and descended the stairs of the island to her S.C.A.M.P.E.R. docked on the island's stone loading dock. Before she boarded her transport, Rachel looked back to the operative walking the grounds of the island and waved off to him. If anything, she honored the boy's brave resolve to be the one to take care of the island and the monuments that stood there. And though, as the esteemed Supreme Leader, she would never admit it; no Numbuh could ever be erased from the Kids Next Door. A number of course would eventually be deemed to another when the next generation would step up in place of the old, but, Rachel had come to realize an important fact…

"Numbers are for now, 497!" Rachel called out through the chill of the tundra like winds, bringing the young operative to turn in her direction, "but Numbuhs are forever!"

It took a moment for that to sink into the boy's head, but he soon shuttered with a chuckle and nodded excitedly at her. "You are correct, sir! Forever we are… Forever _they_ are!" a firm salute from 497 signaled Rachel that it was time for her to set out.

As she settled into her driver seat, she looked through the window at the memorial grounds with a pleased smile. "Forever young…" she muttered to herself before turning her engine on and plotting her course to the Moon Base, "Every Numbuh on that wall will be that age forever… Even if their number gets warn away…"

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><p><strong>Honestly, a bit longer then I planned... Maybe that's why it's late? Oh well, here it is and was. And I hope you enjoyed yourselves and maybe even took a moment to reflect... if not that's cool too.<strong>

**See you in the big times**

**-Overlord**


End file.
